


where the shadows are heavy

by herwhiteknight



Series: on the other side, still standing [1]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Amputation, Amputee Sarah, Angst, Dream Sequence, Emotional Hurt, F/F, Hospitals, Unconventional Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 23:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10605015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herwhiteknight/pseuds/herwhiteknight
Summary: Mrs. S had always said that no matter what life threw her way, she would be able to scratch and claw her way through and somehow come out on the other side still standing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic of hopefully many about amputee!Sarah. It's a very dear headcanon of mine, and I'm hoping to expand upon this idea in the future.
> 
> Day 24 of 365.

Sarah was used to running. Away from problems, physically or mentally. Moving places, running out of town, running away from home, running out of money. Running, running, running. Her legs carried away from abusive boyfriends, scorned girlfriends, controlling cops. No one could hold her down against her will for long.

 

_“Tighten the restraints please? And prep the IV for sedation.”_

 

Sarah was used to be unsettled. She learned to adapt, to change herself to her surroundings to make it _seem_ like she was in control. At all times, she had to control the situation. Or at the very least, she had to seem like it. Control was key. Control was a weapon. And Sarah knew how to wield it.

Always.

 

_“Ma'am, please, could you please sign your consent to the procedure? Legally we cannot proceed until-”_

_“Is this the only way to save her life?”_

_“Yes, the leg is-”_

_“There, now off with you!”_

 

Sarah was used to fending for her herself. She first ran away at the age of nine and had somehow avoided the cops that Mrs. S had called and Mrs. S herself for two whole days. In part it was due to her bloody stubbornness but also her resourcefulness. Mrs. S had always said that no matter what life threw her way, she would be able to scratch and claw her way through and somehow come out on the other side still standing.

 

_“This is as far as you both can go. We'll let you know when it's over. Please, wait here.”_

 

 

_“Is she going...”_

_“She will.”_

 

 

 

_“...tell her when it's done?”_

 

_“Later, Cosima. That time will come soon enough.”_

 

 

Kira danced with her. it had been a long time since she danced with her little girl. her little girl let her twirl her. she had been growing up too fast, and Sarah never got to see her childhood. she wanted to thank her, to thank Kira for letting her spin her

 

but her mouth didn't open. wouldn't open. Kira kept spinning.

 

“keep spinning mommy,” Kira giggled, “if you stop moving, bad things will happen mommy.” and sarah never doubted her daughter's instincts, never questioned. tried to bend her knees, but her knees were stiff, like iron rods had replaced her bones, like superglue, her joints.

 

“spin!” Kira chanted, the word repeated from her mouth morphing into a series of high pitched beep-like noises, and nothing made sense “spin spinspinspinsp”

 

“ _We're losing her-”_

“ _She's losing too much blood – quickly now-”_

 

“i told you something bad would happen,” kira finished flatly as she stopped spinning abruptly, grabbing both of her mommy's hands and _yanking._

 

Sarah felt the world underneath her legs tilt, like they had been chopped off. and she fell.

 

 

 

 

 

Kira was still humming “Spin, spin spin spin,” in a sing-song voice when Sarah woke up. She was here? Next to Sarah, in her bed, of course.

“Monkey,” Sarah murmured, tipping her head down, expecting to brush her lips against the crown of Kira's head. Nothing. “Monkey?!” Sarah's eyes snapped open before she was even aware of speaking.

“Whoa, whoa.. Sarah. Hey. It's me.”

Had Kira aged? Why did she sound older, she was _here,_ Sarah _had_ heard her, so-

“Sarah, it's me, Cosima.”

Sarah finally settled, finally glancing around to fully inspect her surroundings. Hospital. IV machine – the source of Kira's _spin spin spin –_ and Cosima. She looked terrible. “You look terrible, Cos,” Sarah said, speaking the first thing that came to mind.

Cosima actually grinned slightly at that. “You must be okay if you're insulting me right away.”

“Just stating a fact, obviously,” Sarah said absently, looking away from Cosima's face for a moment to fully take everything in. “What happened?”

Sarah's gaze traced the room for a few moments in silence before snapping back to Cosima's eyes when there wasn't an immediate answer. She looked nervous. No. Scared. No, she was.. _terrified._ “Uh.. Sarah, I...”

 _If you stop moving, bad things will happen._ “Cos...?” Sarah asked, the single syllable betraying her nerves, and fear only climbed further from there. “Tell me what's going on, Cosima! Now! Please?”

“Sarah they.. they uh, they had no other choice,” Cosima stumbled nervously, “Mrs. S she.. she made the call, you were unconscious, you... you _almost died,_ ” she finished in a terrified whisper.

“What. Call. Cosima,” Sarah growled, grabbing Cosima's forearm in desperation. _Please. Please tell me that wasn't true. That dream. Any of it. Please let it all be a lie._

“Your leg, Sarah,” Cosima continued in that same mortified whisper, “The one Rachel stabbed. They... they had to...”

Sarah released Cosima's hand with a rough jerk, grabbing and tearing at the sheets that hid waist from herself. She hesitated just slightly, her hands shaking as she gripped the hem of the damn pristine things. But she had to _know._

She tossed the sheets away from herself.

Her eyes immediately were drawn to the stump. Clinically clean and perfectly bandaged with precision. Work Rachel would admire. Work that Rachel had _caused._ She felt anger burn up her lungs, desperate to smoke, to ruin, to smoulder. But it choked her. It left her speechless. She wanted to lament, to release the clogging anguish, but it remained, sitting on her chest and drowning her.

A loud, strangled sob broke free of the smog as Sarah realized – she'd never be able to run from it ever again.

 


End file.
